


(Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark) …And It Hurts So Bad

by angel



Category: Psych
Genre: Episode continuation, Episode: s04e09 Shawn Takes a Shot In the Dark, F/M, Gunshot Wounds, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 09:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19082461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel/pseuds/angel
Summary: The aftermath of Shawn's kidnapping is difficult for everyone, but the important thing is that Shawn will be okay.aka the obligatory h/c-lover's post-Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark fic





	(Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark) …And It Hurts So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Psych fic, but I'm an h/c lover, and I absolutely adore the episode, so I had to write my own version of the post-episode continuation. This got a little out of control, but I was having so much fun. I hope you enjoy it!

Henry saw Shawn sway out of the corner of his eye and managed to grab him before he could fall on his ass on the asphalt. 

Shawn groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push back the pain. He was too exhausted for it to be successful, and Henry’s concern meter shot up a couple more notches. 

“Sit down, son.” Henry gently turned Shawn around and eased him to the ground with his back against the front tire of Lassiter’s car. 

“Is he okay?” Juliet asked as she ran over with her cell phone pressed to her ear. She didn’t wait for Henry to respond before she was ordering 911 to send an ambulance immediately. 

Gus was right behind her, and he knelt on Shawn’s other side while speaking to Henry. “Mr. Spencer?”

“I’m not sure yet, Gus.” Henry took a deep breath and then started methodically checking Shawn over. Obviously, he had the gunshot wound to his shoulder. There was a lot of dried blood on the front and back of his shirt. Through and through wounds bled a lot. Someone had duct taped a cloth to the front wound on top of Shawn’s button-up but had neglected the back. It was shoddy work but at least someone had made an effort.

Fresh blood was oozing from both wounds, which wasn’t surprising considering how Shawn had just leapt from one moving vehicle to another and was forced to hold on tightly while Lassiter did a 180. Not to mention how he’d shot out the engine of his kidnapper’s truck using his injured arm. The recoil alone had to hurt like hell. 

“Juliet, is there a first aid kit and a blanket in Lassiter’s car?” Henry asked, glancing over at her just long enough to see her nod and spring into action, demanding keys from Lassiter before heading back to the trunk of his car.

He turned his attention back to his son, gently pressing his fingers to Shawn’s neck. His pulse was fast, and his skin was several shades paler than normal. The blanket Juliet was getting would help with the shock. “Shawn? Are you hurting anywhere else?”

“Head hurts,” he murmured, opening his eyes and giving Gus a tired smile. “Diesel. You made it.”

Henry shot Gus a worried look, but Gus just shook his head. “I can’t believe you did that, Shawn. What were you thinking?”

Shawn started to respond but moaned and squeezed his eyes shut again when Henry’s probing fingers found the swollen bump on the back of his head.

“What happened here?” Henry asked, worried but slightly relieved at the lack of blood on his fingers when he pulled his hand away. 

“Dude at the gas station cold-cocked me with something. Thought he was gonna help me and call Lassie.”

Henry looked over his shoulder at the guy that Lassiter was reading rights to and shoved down the urge to go over there and punch the man into next week. He had more important things to handle at the moment.

“Dad,” Shawn’s voice was off, quiet but urgent. “Dad, gonna be sick.” 

“Gus, out of the way,” Henry said as he curled one hand around Shawn’s uninjured shoulder and helped support him as he leaned in the other direction and dry heaved. “Jesus, kid, when’s the last time you ate anything?”

“We had dinner last night around seven. Tacos.” Gus had scurried to Henry’s other side and turned away, which was probably a good thing. He was known to be a sympathetic vomiter. 

Juliet returned while Shawn was indisposed, and she winced as she placed the first aid kit next to Henry and then shook out the blanket. “Ambulance should be here in about 10 minutes. How’s he doing?”

“He’s in shock and probably dehydrated.”

“There’s water in the trunk,” Juliet said.

“No, no, please, no,” Shawn moaned in between heaves. He was bringing up a little bile but his stomach was long past empty. 

“I don’t think he can tolerate anything right now,” Henry said as he rubbed Shawn’s back with the hand that wasn’t holding him up. “Medics will give him an IV.”

“No needles.” Shawn wiped his mouth on his sleeve and leaned back against the car, breathing hard.

“I don’t think you’ll get much choice in that, kid.” Henry dug through the first aid kit and pulled out a few things. He swiped both his hands with an alcohol wipe, and then tore open two gauze packages. 

Juliet draped the blanket over Shawn’s legs and pulled it up to his stomach while Henry worked. She smiled at him when his eyes focused on her. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had better days.”

“Just hang on a little longer, and you’ll probably get some good drugs and a nap.” 

Shawn smirked. “Promise?”

Henry gently moved Shawn’s shirt and the duct taped chamois away from his shoulder so he could see if it was still bleeding. There was more fresh red blood on the t-shirt, and when he checked the back of Shawn’s shoulder, he saw fresh blood there too. “Take a deep breath, kid,” he said just before he pressed gauze pads hard to both entrance and exit wounds. 

Shawn cried out and tried to shy away from Henry’s hands, but there wasn’t anywhere for him to go with his back against the side of Lassiter’s car. His right hand came up to clutch at Henry’s forearm but he was too weak to pull it away.

“I’m sorry,” Henry said quietly, not releasing the pressure. 

The only sound for a moment was Shawn’s panted breaths and quiet moans. Then, the ambulance sirens were audible in the distance, and Henry sighed in relief. Help was coming.

Things moved very quickly as soon as the ambulance pulled up and the medics jumped out. They assessed Shawn, strapped him to a stretcher, and loaded him into the bus before anyone really had a chance to even ask them any questions.

“I’m going with you!” Henry managed to exclaim as he held open the back door of the bus just long enough to climb inside. 

The ride to the hospital was uneventful, and Henry could not have been more reassured by that. Shawn seemed to be more or less okay after the ordeal of the last 12 hours. He was awake and responding to the medics, but he had his eyes closed while they worked around him, applying bandages, inserting an IV, and piling more blankets on top of him. 

When they got the hospital, Henry watched Shawn get rushed into the ER and knew that, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t follow. He went to the desk to get the paperwork and then found a seat in the waiting room. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and stared at it, trying to decide if now was the right time to call Maddie. 

He would want to know what was happening if their roles were reversed, so he found her contact number and tapped the call button. 

It rang three times before she answered, sounding half asleep, “Hello? Henry?”

“Hi, Maddie.”

She cut right to the chase despite the fact that he’d clearly woken her up. Typical Maddie. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face to stall for a few more seconds. “Shawn’s going to be okay-“

“Going to be?! What happened?!”

“He was working a case for the PD, and he was kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped? Why is this the first I’m hearing about this, Henry?” And that was her disappointed voice tinged with worry. He’d heard it plenty during their last year of marriage.

“Because I’ve been looking for our son!”

“Sir!” a woman sitting three chairs away snapped at him as the toddler in her arms started to bawl.

“Sorry,” Henry replied and then lowered his voice. “We just got to the hospital, and I’m calling you now. I haven’t talked to the doctor, so I don’t have all the details. However, I thought you would want to know that he’s been hurt.”

The line was silent for a long moment, and he could picture her pressing fingers to her forehead as she calmed herself down. It was something else that was familiar from that last year together. “What happened?” she asked with less vitriol than before.

“He was shot in the shoulder – a through-and-through – and kidnapped, but he escaped. The suspects caught up to him again, but he got away again. Lassiter arrested the perp, so we got the guy.” He left out the part of Shawn jumping from one moving car to another because that wasn’t a mental image any parent needed.

“How’s Shawn right now?”

“He’s in with the doctors, but he was awake and alert. He’s lost some blood, and he was hit on the head, so he might have a concussion.”

“I’m in Stockholm for a conference, but I’ll be on the next plane.”

Henry thought about arguing with her but knew he wouldn’t stand a chance in keeping her away. “Send me your flight information, and I’ll have someone pick you up at the airport.” 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Let me know if Shawn’s condition changes.”

Henry agreed, hung up, and put the phone back in his pocket. He turned his attention to the paperwork and waited for the doctor to come out and speak with him.

~~!!~~

Shawn woke in phases of perception. The first would have been smell, but mostly what he was aware of was the flow of oxygen directly into his nose. Nasal cannula then. That was way better than the alternative – a tube down his throat. He’d experienced that joy once before and was in no hurry to repeat it. He fell back to sleep. 

The next was sound. Squeaky nurses’ sneakers and the low murmur of voices beside his bed. If he focused, he could make out his dad’s deeper timbre and Gus’ slightly higher tone, but he couldn’t quite understand what they were saying. Every now and then, he heard his name, but that was about it. Sleep pulled him back under before he could dwell on it too much. 

Next was touch. A calloused hand was covering his right one, fingers curled loosely over so that the tips were touching his palm. His left arm was across his chest, held there by a sling. That made sense, considering he had been shot in the left shoulder. He remembered that clearly. The bullet had moved as if in slow motion, and he’d watched it penetrate his shoulder, watched the blood spurt a brief moment before he felt the pain.

Speaking of pain, it was distant, muted by medication. His shoulder ached deeply into the muscle and bone, but he could tell it would be so much worse if not for the morphine. His head hurt too, but it was dull and easily ignored. 

His whole body was a dull ache actually. Then, he realized he felt cold despite being covered with at least one blanket. He shivered, igniting pain in his head and shoulder that had been dormant. He went back under to escape the discomfort.

Last was sight. The room was mostly dark when he blinked his eyes. The only light came from the television, playing an old baseball game with the sound turned down, nearly inaudible. Shawn slowly turned his head to see his dad sitting in a visitor’s chair to his right, watching the TV. 

“Dad?” His voice sounded like he hadn’t spoken in years, more hoarse than with his worst bout of strep throat as a child. 

Henry looked over at the sound and then nearly fell out of his chair when he saw that Shawn’s eyes were open. “Shawn. Hi. How are you feeling?”

Shawn thought about it for a moment. “Ouchie.”

Henry let out a quick, relieved huff of a laugh. “I bet. I’m going to call the nurse in and let her look you over.” 

He nodded and asked, “Water?”

“We’ll see what you can have. Just hold on for a minute.” Henry spoke briefly to the nurse who answered the call and then stood and pulled on a cord to turn on the light behind Shawn’s bed. 

Shawn looked around the room, taking in the details. It was a standard single occupant room with a window to his right and a door that most likely led to a small bathroom on his left. The blinds were drawn, and the lack of light bleeding in meant it was nighttime. He was covered by two regular hospital blankets, and there was indeed a sling holding his left arm to his chest. There was a dry erase board by the door with his name, his doctor’s name (Collins), the night nurse’s name (Janet), the CNA’s name (Fred), and various numbers that he assumed were vital signs. 

The room’s door opened, and a nurse with short blonde hair walked inside. Her nametag said Janet, and she looked to be in her late 40s with a kind face. She smiled at him as she neared the bed. “Hi, Mr. Spencer, it’s nice to see you awake.”

He winced at the name and shook his head. “Shawn.”

“Okay, Shawn. Can you tell me if anything hurts?”

“Dry throat, head and shoulder ache.” 

“Scale of 1 to 10?”

“Maybe three.”

“Let me check your bandages, and we’ll see where you’re at then.”

“Water?”

“Sure, you can have a little bit of water. Henry, there’s a cup on the table. You can go get it filled at the nurses’ station while I check him over.”

She waited until Henry left the room before asking again, “Now, what’s the real number. Scale of 1 to 10.”

He rolled his eyes. “Four point five. Not bad.”

She hmm-ed and set about taking his vitals and checking his bandages. 

When Henry returned with the water, Shawn eagerly drank through the straw until the cup was taken away from him. “Go easy on the water, kid. You don’t want to get sick.”

“He’s right,” Janet chimed in. “Drink slowly, and you can have a little more.”

“How’s he doing?” Henry asked while Shawn was sipping more of the amazing, cool water.

“Very well. His bandages are clean, and his fever is still coming down. His vitals look good. The doctor should be by on rounds in a couple of hours, and he’ll be pleased to see Shawn awake and alert.”

“Thank you,” Henry said as she headed for the door. 

Shawn finished his cup of water and handed it back to his father. He could feel his body slowing down as exhaustion took over. Or maybe that was the medication. 

~~!!~~

Henry watched Shawn sleep, unable to stop himself from considering all the possible outcomes of this ordeal. All in all, his son had been very lucky. 

The bullet had missed all of the vital blood vessels, which is why he hadn’t bled out in the trunk of the car or during his run through the forest or during his captivity. There might be some nerve damage, but the surgeon hadn’t been too concerned, and they couldn’t really assess Shawn for that until he was awake and weaned off of the heavy-duty pain medications.

To be honest, Henry dreaded the next stage of recuperation where Shawn would be forced to be still and heal. He’d been an active and reckless child, which resulted in quite a few broken bones and stitched gashes. Henry knew the recovery period well. Once Shawn was well enough to be awake for several hours at a time, he would be bouncing off the walls but in too much pain to actually do anything about it. 

He’d want to return to work immediately to give his mind something to do, but Henry had already spoken with Karen Vick about that when she’d called a half hour ago to check on Shawn’s condition. Shawn wouldn’t be happy about the medical and psychological clearances he’d need to return to consulting for the SBPD, but it would make everyone else feel better. Everyone – even Lassiter – was worried about him. The number of text messages Henry had received from various SBPD staff in the last few hours could attest to that. 

Maddie had asked him a lot of questions when he’d spoken to her recently to update her on Shawn being conscious and alert. She’d had time to process the news that her son was injured, and she’d moved on to worrying about his mental state. Henry didn’t have many answers for her yet. Shawn was too drugged and exhausted to talk about what had happened, and he’d been sleeping peacefully so far. 

There was a light knock on the door, and then it was pushed open by Dr. Collins, the internist on shift. He was about Shawn’s age with sandy brown hair and thick rimmed glasses. He smiled at Henry and said, “I heard our patient was awake.”

“Briefly.”

“That’s to be expected for the next day or so. We have him on some pretty heavy pain medication to keep him comfortable and allow him to rest along with some serious antibiotics. His body has a lot to heal.”

Henry nodded. “How’s he doing?”

Dr. Collins flipped through Shawn’s chart to the last couple of pages and scanned the notes left by the nurses. “Honestly, better than I had anticipated given the amount of time between the initial gunshot wound and when he was brought in to the ER. His vitals have been very stable, and his temperature isn’t bad.” He walked across the room and started washing his hands in the sink on the far wall as he spoke. “I’m still concerned about infection, but like I said, his vitals look good. We’ll keep an eye on it and make sure the antibiotics continue to do their job.”

Henry watched as Dr. Collins moved back to Shawn’s side and pulled back the hospital gown and carefully peeled away the bandage to see the wound on the front of the shoulder. It was swollen and red, irritated, but the surgery hadn’t been that long ago, and the doctor didn’t recoil in horror, so Henry took that as a good sign. 

“I have to roll him over to check his back. Do you mind helping me, Mr. Spencer?”

“Please call me Henry,” he replied as he stood and reached out to help. 

Dr. Collins instructed him on what to do, and they worked together to move Shawn onto his right side, which was the side Henry had been sitting on, so they rolled him so that he was facing his dad.

Shawn woke as he was moved, moaning and murmuring a “Wha?” while his eyes fluttered but didn’t quite open. 

Henry had one hand against Shawn’s chest to brace him from rolling further forward, and he rubbed it lightly back and forth while leaning down. “Go back to sleep, son. You’re okay.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah. Everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

Dr. Collins finished his inspection of the back wound and said, “Let’s roll him back.”

Once Shawn was supine again, Henry left the hand on his chest, hoping to keep him settled, even though his head was moving and his eyes were fluttering like he was trying to wake all the way up. 

Dr. Collins washed his hands again and started making notes in the chart. “The wounds look as good as can be expected. He’ll have to keep the sling on for at least a couple of weeks to keep movement to a minimum. He’s not going to want to move that arm for a while anyway.”

“How long before he can go home?” That would be one of the first questions Shawn asked, so he might as well get the answer now. 

“It will be a few more days. If he continues to improve and we don’t see any complications, we can probably discharge him in about three days.”

That was several days very long days away. Something else caught his attention in the doctor’s words. “What kind of complications?”

“Like I said, Shawn’s doing very well. But complications can come up at any time. We’re watching the infection. The other concern is the medications for pain and the antibiotics, but the nurses will be monitoring him closely. If you notice him acting unusual or out of sorts, please don’t hesitate to let us know. Family can pick up on that type of thing before we can.”

Henry sank back down in his chair and rubbed a hand over his head. Shawn wasn’t quite as out of the woods as Henry had hoped. 

“Don’t be discouraged, Henry,” Dr. Collins said. “Shawn’s young and strong. Everything looks good, and I have every reason to believe the improvement will continue. It’s my job to think about the alternatives, that’s all.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

~~!!~~

A few hours later, Shawn opened his eyes to find Gus and Henry playing a card game over the tray table that had been pulled across his feet. Gus was sitting on his left, and Henry was sitting on his right. 

“Who’s winning?” he asked, clearing his throat and making a grabby hand for the water cup he could see on the side table. 

Henry stood up to hand him the drink. “Me.”

“He cheats worse than you do!” Gus protested.

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

Shawn laughed and then moaned and nearly dropped the water cup when he instinctively wanted to grab at his shoulder.

“Whoa,” Henry grabbed the cup, pressed the call button, and then gently squeezed Shawn’s uninjured shoulder. 

Gus was patting Shawn’s foot and telling him to “Breathe. Take a deep breath in, hold for 1, 2, 3, breathe out.”

He managed to get himself under control just in time for the nurse to hurry into the room. “Note to self: nothing is funny ever again.”

“Mr. Spencer?”

Shawn recoiled and snapped, “Shawn. Call me Shawn. Isn’t there a preferred name field in the chart?”

“Shawn!” Henry exclaimed.

“See, he knows,” Shawn said, as he watched the nurse check his monitors and then his bandages. “So,” he eyed her nametag, “Patsy, when can I get out of here?”

“ _Shawn_ , you had surgery less than 24 hours ago to debride your infected gunshot wound. You’ve been unconscious much of your time here.”

Shawn gave her a wide, innocent grin. “So, this afternoon?”

“You’ll be lucky if you’re released by the weekend.” Patsy finished checking his condition and notating her findings in his chart. “How’s your pain?”

Shawn glanced at Gus and Henry before replying, “Four-ish?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” Patsy wasn’t taking any shit from him, which was unfortunate. He missed Janet.

He cleared his throat and said, “Five.”

“I can help with that. Are you feeling pain anywhere besides your shoulder?”

Shawn took a moment to check in with his body. Everything but his shoulder felt okay. He was sure he would be sore if he didn’t have nearly as much pain medication already in his system, and he wasn’t eager to feel that pain. “No.”

“Okay, I’ll give you something to help with the shoulder. Take it easy, and don’t get excited.” She shot warning looks at his dad and best friend and set about injecting his IV with the meds. Then she was gone.

Shawn rolled his head on his pillow, looking from Henry to Gus and back again. A thought popped into his head, and he blurted out, “Did you call Mom?”

Henry frowned but nodded. “I did. She’s on her way, but she was in Sweden, so it’s going to take her a little longer to get here.”

“Oh,” he replied, feeling upset about her absence for reasons he couldn’t explain. Probably the head injury. Yeah, definitely the head injury. 

“Do you want to try and call her?” Henry asked gently.

“No,” Shawn said, and then nervously scratched at his chin with his right hand. “What about Abigail?”

Gus shook his head and replied, “You said she was away this week with her family, and I wasn’t sure what to tell her.”

“It’s her parents’ anniversary and someone’s birthday so they rented a lake house for the week. We shouldn’t bother her, right? There’s nothing she can do, and I don’t want her driving all the back here upset.”

“It’s your call, kid. I can call her if you want.”

Shawn considered it for a minute before shaking his head and gesturing at the cards. “Deal me in?”

Gus and Henry exchanged glances while Henry gathered up the cards to shuffle them, and Gus moved the tray table closer so that Shawn could reach it. 

“What do you want to play?” Henry asked, still shuffling the deck.

“Poker? Blackjack?”

Gus tsked. “You must be out of your damn mind if you think you’ll be awake long enough for poker.”

“What do you suggest then, buddy? Bullshit?”

“How about Go Fish?”

“What are we? Five?”

“Mentally or…” Henry let his sentence trail off as he dealt out seven cards. 

“Ha, ha, ha.” Shawn fumbled with the cards, trying to pick them up and fan them out with one hand. Eventually, he found that he could use his left hand to hold them while he sorted them with his right. It was awkward but not painful so he made it work.

“Gus, have any fours?”

“Go fish.”

Shawn added a card to his hand and tried to pay attention to the game, but he found himself dozing off before anyone could ask him for any cards.

~~!!~~

The next couple of days passed in a time warp, moving both quickly and slowly. He slept much of the time, but when he was awake, he pestered everyone about when he could go home. In the morning of his second day in the hospital, the nurses removed his catheter and got him on his feet, which was unpleasant for everyone. However, it put him one step closer to going home, so he was willing to endure it. 

Finally, on the third day, he was released to Henry’s care. Maddie’s flights had been delayed by bad weather so she hadn’t arrived in town yet. Shawn felt it was completely ridiculous that he couldn’t go back to his own apartment, but he had to concede defeat when he was barely able to keep his eyes open long enough to stumble up the steps, into his father’s living room, and onto the couch, where he napped the afternoon away.

He woke to two familiar women chatting quietly on the other side of the living room. He tried to pinch himself to see if he was really awake, but movement sent pain shooting through his shoulder, which caused him to gasp loudly.

“Shawn!”

“Goose!”

Abigail and his mother were up and moving to his side immediately. 

“What happened? Everything okay?” Henry called from the kitchen.

“He just woke up,” Maddie replied. “I think the pain medication from the hospital wore off. Where did you put his prescription?”

“Mom? Abs?” Shawn blinked at them in confusion, wondering how long he’d slept and when they’d arrived.

“In the bathroom cabinet. I’ll get him some water.” He could hear Henry moving around the kitchen, getting a glass and turning on the faucet. 

Maddie stepped away, heading off to get his meds, while Abigail shook her head at him.

“We have a lot to talk about,” she said, in a disappointed tone that Shawn didn’t like. “Why did I have to find out you’d been shot when your father answered your cell phone this afternoon? Why didn’t you call me?”

“You were out of town with your family, and I didn’t want to worry you. I’ll be fine. It was more of a graze really.”

She gave him an unimpressed look. “That might have worked if I hadn’t been here talking with your parents for the last hour. I know about the kidnapping, and the car jumping, and the surgery.”

“Most women would think that was all badass Vin Diesel type stuff.”

“I thought that you liked that I wasn’t most women.”

He knew when he was beat. “Touché.”

Maddie returned before they could say anything else, and Henry came out of the kitchen with the water. 

“Let’s get you sitting up so you can take your pills.” Henry leaned over and gently helped Shawn sit up properly.

Shawn gritted his teeth and tried his best to breathe through the pain. His left arm was still secured to his body with a sling, but the motions of sitting up caused the pain to spike enough that he felt dizzy and had to squeeze his eyes shut to wait for the world to stop undulating. 

“Goose?” Maddie sounded worried.

“I’m okay,” he replied, breathily. “Was laying down too long.”

She waited for him to open his eyes before handing him the pills, and then Henry waited for him to drop them into his mouth before handing him the water. It sucked only having one functioning arm. 

“Are you hungry? Henry’s brisket is almost done, and Abigail helped me make potato salad.” Maddie leaned down to give him a hug and whispered, “I like her.”

He smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Mom.” 

“Rest for a few minutes, and then we’ll eat.” Maddie said, and then pushed Henry toward the kitchen.

Abigail sat down on Shawn’s right side and reached out to lace their fingers together. “Feeling better?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re going to keep saying that, aren’t you?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“How mad you are that I didn’t call you from the hospital.”

“I will agree to drop that particular relationship faux pas if you agree to drop this macho act that everything is _fine_.”

He hesitated, not sure he would be able to be honest about feeling like crap. But he was regretful that he hadn’t thought to ask Gus or Henry to call her when he’d first woken up in the hospital and that he’d decided to not bother her later. 

“Shawn?” she prodded.

“Okay, okay.”

“So, I’ll ask again, how are you feeling?”

“Not great. Less like Diesel, more like Murtaugh.” 

“Too old for this shit,” she responded knowingly.

~~!!~~

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair. Even though the brisket was tender, Maddie insisted on cutting his meat up for him, which made Shawn feel all of five years old in front of his girlfriend. Luckily, Abigail pretended not to see because she was discussing good fishing spots with Henry. Shawn could not have been more bored.

“Mom, how is your work going?” he asked, because he needed to focus on something or else he’d fall asleep face down in his dinner.

“Work is good. I led a panel in a conference in Sweden about the psychology of a serial killer.” 

“Does Sweden have many serial killers?”

“A few. It was a Scandinavian police authority conference, so many countries were involved.”

“That sounds nice.” Shawn pushed his remaining food around on his plate, having lost his appetite. He blamed the medication since there was fresh pineapple right in front of him, and he had absolutely no desire to eat any of it. 

Maddie startled him when she reached over and pressed her hand to his forehead.

“Mom!”

“You look tired, Goose. I’m just making sure you’re okay.”

He glanced at Abigail before taking a deep breath. “I am tired, Mom. It’s been a long few days.”

She smiled and cupped his cheek with one hand. “Your temperature seems normal. Do you want to go back to the couch or up to your room?”

He considered the options and how many stairs he’d have to climb and decided, “Couch.”

“Let me help you,” Abigail said, standing up and hovering as he pushed himself to his feet. 

They slowly made their way into the living room, and he fell somewhat gracefully on the couch. “Do you want to watch a movie? I have a great collection of 80s cinema. All the John Hughes movies, the Back to the Future trilogy. You name it, and I probably have it.”

“First, Back to the Future III came out in 1990, so not technically an 80s movie, but it does complete the trilogy nicely. Second, I should probably go home and let you get some rest.”

“No, no, stay. You can choose the movie.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please don’t leave me here alone with them.”

“Shawn, they’re your parents.”

“Yes, and they’re being creepy. There’s no yelling or throwing things. They’re _getting along_.” 

“Most people like it when their parents get along. Also, have you considered that they’re just both concerned about you?”

“Considered it, yes. Concluded that they’re still being weird, also yes.”

“Okay, okay, how about this? I will watch one movie with you, and then I will make sure you’re settled for the night, and then I’m going home.”

“What if you do all of that and stay the night?” 

“And where would I sleep?”

“With me, in my room, of course.”

“Shawn, that’s not reasonable. You’re going to need space for your arm.”

“No, I don’t. It’s in a sling. It pretty much stays right here.” He patted the sling where his lower arm was resting inside of it, well away from his actual wounds.

“I won’t get any sleep while I worry about rolling over and hitting you in the night, but as soon as you’re feeling better, you and I will spend an entire day in bed.”

“That sounds awesome. Disappointing right now, but awesome later.”

She laughed. “So, we’ll watch a movie, and I’ll come back tomorrow after I finish making my lesson plans for next week.”

He sighed but nodded. “Okay, fine. Deal.”

She leaned down and kissed him. “So, about that movie. Real Genius?”

“A woman after my own heart.”

~~!!~~

Shawn recuperated for the next week before he had to get out of his dad’s house. He bugged Gus by texting him numerous gifs of crying cartoons until he came to the house, picked Shawn up, and drove him to the SBPD office.

“Santa Barbara Police people!” Shawn exclaimed as he walked into the bullpen. “Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated, and I’ve returned to solve all the crimes!”

“No one said you were dead, Mr. Spencer,” Chief Vick said as she stepped out of her office. She smiled tensely at him, her eyes lingering on his sling a bit too long. “But it is good to see you.”

“Thanks, Chief. It’s good to see you too.”

Lassiter looked up from a case file and scowled. “What the hell are you doing here, Spencer? You can’t possibly be medically cleared.”

“As a matter of fact, Lassie-“

“He’s not,” Gus interrupted. 

“But I will be soon. More importantly, I can’t sit around doing nothing any longer. Do you have perps to interrogate? Any evidence I could take a look at for you? Anything?”

“No, no, and no,” Lassiter replied as he turned back to his file. 

Juliet gave him a soft smile from her own desk. “I’m sorry, Shawn. We’re working on a missing persons case, but there isn’t any evidence. A woman came in and reported her boyfriend missing. His apartment didn’t yield any clues, and we haven’t found his car yet.”

“What kind of car does he drive?”

“Prius.”

“New or old?”

“New.”

“Color?”

“Silver.”

Gus leaned over and whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Getting us on this case.”

“I brought you down here to say hello to everyone and then maybe to get a pineapple smoothie. We are not here to be put on a case.”

“Dude, I’m going crazy. I need something to do.”

“Take up a hobby.”

“I have a hobby. It’s called psychic detective.” Shawn wiggled the fingers of his right hand next to his temple to illustrate. 

Gus rolled his eyes. “I’m not getting you a pineapple smoothie now.”

“Gus!”

“Mr. Spencer,” Chief Vick spoke up to get their attention, “I will speak for us all when I say that we’re glad you’re doing well.”

Shawn started to do a happy dance.

“ _However, _you cannot work any cases until you’re cleared by a medical doctor and a department psychologist.”__

__“Whaaaaat? That’s just not fair, Chief. I can understand the medical doctor, but I don’t need to see a psychologist. Trust me, my mother was in town for the last week, and that’s enough psychology for the rest of my life.”_ _

__Vick crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. “I appreciate that Dr. Spencer has been helping you, but a department psychologist who is not related to you will need to evaluate you.” She held up a hand to stop his further protests. “It’s a thirty minute evaluation, Mr. Spencer.”_ _

__Shawn finally conceded. Thirty minutes wasn’t so bad. He could get through that, no problem. “Understood, Chief.”_ _

__She looked suspicious of his agreement but finally nodded and walked back in to her office._ _

__Shawn spun around and grinned at the detectives. “So, about the case-“_ _

__“No,” Lassiter cut him off. “Guster, take him home, take him to lunch, just take him away.”_ _

__“Lassie,” Shawn clutched at his chest, “I thought you liked me. Now you want to get rid of me.”_ _

__“Guster,” Lassiter growled._ _

__“C’mon, Shawn. Pineapple smoothies are on me if we leave right now.” Gus pushed at his right shoulder, urging him toward the door._ _

__“All right, all right, let’s go. But we’ll be back!” Shawn called as they headed toward the doors._ _

__“Bye!” Juliet shouted after them._ _

__Despite the energy he’d shown in the office, Shawn dozed in the car, as half his pineapple smoothie threatened to spill out of the cup until Gus rescued it while they were stopped at a red light._ _

__~~!!~~_ _

__It took a couple of weeks of PT for Shawn to lose the sling and then get medically cleared to return to work for the SBPD. He tried to take a couple of easy Psych cases, but Gus and his dad interceded on those until he got the all clear from the doctor. Chief Vick stayed true to her psychologist clearance requirement, so Shawn was forced to sit in a session with Dr. Payne. He spent fifteen minutes making up puns and fake medical office names with the doctor’s surname, and fifteen minutes convincing the doctor that he was mentally fit for duty._ _

__The day that he walked back into the SBPD, whole and healthy and ready for work, was one of the best days of his life._ _

__~End_ _


End file.
